


Pancakes

by EllieStormfound



Series: Jaskier has unexpected talents (and it is probably not what you are thinking) [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier makes pancakes for his favorite witcher, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pancakes, mention of Vesemir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieStormfound/pseuds/EllieStormfound
Summary: Another short fic where Jaskier shows an unexpected practical skill and Geralt is in denial of his love of the bard
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jaskier has unexpected talents (and it is probably not what you are thinking) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776235
Comments: 44
Kudos: 316





	Pancakes

“You what?” asked Jaskier, turning around to Geralt with an incredulous look on his face, “you NEVER had pancakes in all of your long live?” He was looking at his witcher as if he had told him that he did not know what shoes were. 

The bard was standing in the warm kitchen of Kaer Morhen, doublet open, shirt loosely laced, sleeves rolled up and hands on his hips. He had been helping Vesemir organize and catalogue their food supply and now his hair was ruffled and Geralt could see dust on the shoulders of the sky-blue doublet. Every witcher had brought different provisions for the winter when they arrived over the last weeks and Vesemir wanted to have an overview over everything. 

“Who would have made me pancakes?” Geralt retorted with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t know, Vesemir?” Jaskier said, “or in an inn?”

Geralt did not say anything to the ridiculous suggestion of Vesemir making him pancakes even though he had the funny image in his head of the older witcher in an apron and chef’s hat, swinging a pan, throwing pancakes in the air. He shook his head, barely concealing a grin.

“They aren’t usually on the menu and when I am in an inn I need to eat more sustaining food than pancakes,” Geralt said. 

To Geralt’s annoyance Jaskier started to beam as Lambert entered the kitchen carrying a basket full of eggs. The bard had been delighted to find out that they kept chickens at Kaer Morhen for the supply of fresh eggs. Witchers needed their protein. Geralt did really not like the way Jaskier was beaming at Lambert and he especially hated it how Lambert winked at his bard.

“This is an unacceptable situation,” Jaskier declared towards Geralt before he turned to the other witcher again, “Lambert, you must be send by Melitele.” 

Geralt wanted to punch Lambert’s grin off his face. 

“Give me those eggs,” the bard said, taking the basket from the witcher. “And Geralt, go and fetch me flour and milk.” Jaskier had also been delighted to find out about the goats Eskel had introduced to the keep a few winters ago as a source for milk.

Geralt huffed with irritation but did as the bard asked. When he returned to the kitchen he heard Lambert and Jaskier laugh and his desire to punch the other witcher intensified. 

“Don’t you have a roof to fix?” he barked at Lambert as he sat down the jug of milk and the pot with the flour on the countertop next to where Jaskier stood. Lambert looked at him with raised eyebrows and a grin. 

“Don’t be rude, Geralt,” Jaskier chided. Lambert laughed, looked at the bard with - Geralt could have sworn - barely concealed wanting before turning to Geralt and said, “Jaskier is right,” Lambert said, speaking the bard’s name as if it was delicious, “don’t be rude.” Then he turned again to Jaskier and said, “we continue our … conversation tonight,” and left the kitchen. 

“What was that about?” Geralt growled.

“What do you mean?” Jaskier asked innocently. He turned away from Geralt, grabbing a large bowl from a cupboard and a cooking spoon from a drawer. 

“What does Lambert want from you?” Geralt specified. He noted that Jaskier’s heartbeat was slightly quicker than usual and his cheeks and neck were flushed. 

“That is none of your business,” Jaskier replied. 

He looked up at Geralt and with a radiant smile said, “now you will sit down here by the fire and let me spoil you with my special pancakes.” 

Geralt could not explain why his throat was suddenly dry when he looked in the familiar face of his bard, beaming at him as if he was the only person in this world that mattered at this moment. Jaskier could have a strange effect on him.

He did as he was asked and was pleased when Jaskier put a mug of ale next to him and quickly squeezed his shoulder.

“Since when can you make pancakes?” he asked Jaskier, “I am sure you told me you could not cook or bake.”

Jaskier looked up at him again. “Oh, pancakes are pretty much the only edible thing I can produce,” he said with a laugh. 

“A few winters ago, I had a short fling with a wonderful cook, a beautiful fat woman, lovely blond curls. She worked in a tavern I was performing at. She made me pancakes, her speciality, after my performance and I fell instantly in love with the pancakes and her,” he said in a dreamy voice and unfocused gaze.

Geralt watched the bard carefully taking an egg into his hand, holding it securely and hitting the shell on the rim of the bowl, neatly breaking it into two halves, letting the raw egg glide into the bowl. He repeated this with two more eggs. 

“It was in the middle of winter and in the night a blizzard hit the village and we were snowed in. So I stayed in her warm bet for a couple of nights and because we could not go outside I sat in the kitchen during the day, singing to her, tasting her lovely food and lovely lips and breasts and… ahm …”, Jaskier coughed and seemed to return to the present, “and she was scandalized by my lack of cooking skills, so she taught me how to make pancakes.” 

Jaskier was still smiling sweetly and Geralt could picture the scenario Jaskier had described clearly in his head. 

The bard scooped a few spoons full of flower in the bowl to the eggs and poured a bit of the milk and a bit of water in. Then he looked around the kitchen, grabbed the pot of salt and added a pinch of it to the mix. With the wooden cooking spoon he stirred the ingredients together. 

Then he grabbed a mug of ale for himself and sat beside Geralt. “The pancake batter has to sit for a few minutes.” He held out his mug to Geralt who clinked his mug to Jaskier’s.

“Thank you again for taking me with you this winter,” the bard said. Geralt hummed in answer, not looking at Jaskier directly. Sometimes when Jaskier smiled at him it was like looking in the sun, it hurt but you did not want to turn away, so it was better not to look in the first place.

“You know,” the bard said quietly, “you don’t have to be jealous of Lambert, you could just ask me to spend the evening with you.” He softly tipped his foot against Geralt’s.  
Geralt looked up with a frown and said, “I am not jealous.”

“Of course you aren’t,” was all the bard replied. He stood up again, walked over to the bowl and stirred the batter. “Now,” he said more cheerfully, “the batter is ready.” He grabbed a pan and put it on the stove, where a fire was always burning. 

He waited till the pan was heated and put oil in. With a ladle he scooped some of the batter in the pan, which produced a sizzling sound. Jaskier grabbed the pan by he handle and moved it a bit for the batter to distribute over the whole surface of the pan. After a short while he grabbed the handle of the pan again, moving it first slowly then with more momentum back and forth. “Now comes the fun part,” he said smiling, looking up to make sure Geralt was watching him. 

With a swift motion Jaskier swung the pan just a bit up and forward, throwing the pancake in the air where it turned and landed on the uncooked side. He put the pan back on the stove and bowed low towards Geralt as if to an applauding audience. Geralt smirked but said nothing. He was indeed a bit impressed but still thought about what Jaskier had said a moment ago about being jealous of Lambert.

Jaskier backed five pancakes, stacking them on a plate, till the batter was all used up. He placed them on the table and motioned to Geralt to take a seat at the table. “I am just getting some honey and preserved cherries.”

When he returned Geralt sat at the table in front of the pile of deliciously smelling pancakes. Jaskier sat opposite of him. “Aren’t you eating some too?”, Geralt asked the bard.

“No, my pleasure is to watch you eat them”, he replied with a smile. Geralt took one of the still warm pancakes, placing it on his plate dropping some cherries and honey on it. 

The taste of the pancake was rich and wonderful. It was in perfect harmony with the sweet honey and sour cherries. It was so delicious that he had to suppress a groan of pleasure. When he looked up he was caught in the radiating smile from Jaskier.

**Author's Note:**

> Lambert is a prick, but I love him :D 
> 
> Has someone more ideas for practical skills Jaskier could have? I am currently out of ideas and would love any suggestions!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Find me on tumblr [EllieStormfound](https://elliestormfound.tumblr.com/)


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